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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26050264">Good Riddance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCoconut/pseuds/ChocolateCoconut'>ChocolateCoconut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Allison Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Angst, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest, No Romance, One Shot, Short One Shot, Sibling Bonding, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Season 2 Spoilers, wibbly wobbly timey wimey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:56:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26050264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCoconut/pseuds/ChocolateCoconut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben went into the light in 1963. Klaus died (temporarily) in 2019. But somehow, it's the same time.</p><p>aka</p><p>Ben gets to say goodbye to a rather confused Klaus, thanks to the relucent help of a benevolent little girl.</p><p>UPDATE: Just added an unexpected second chapter - featuring Diego!<br/>UPDATE 2: And now... a third - featuring Allison!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allison Hargreeves &amp; Ben Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves &amp; God, Ben Hargreeves &amp; Diego Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves &amp; God, Ben Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves &amp; God, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; God</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Klaus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Ben</strong>
</p><p>Ben can feel himself fading — away from Vanya, away from the Academy, away from Dallas, away from Klaus, away from the Earth. Away.</p><p>It reminds him of falling asleep, something he’s longed to experience again for over 17 years. Except, instead of descending down, down, down, deep within himself into blissful darkness, Ben is being lifted up. Up, away, and into glaring light. <em> The </em> Light. </p><p>He hears music. Soft, yet upbeat instrumental sounds that would make the perfect ambiance for an outdoor French bistro. It goes on and on and on, distracting Ben from the fact that he’s stopped fading. He’s landed.</p><p>When he finally notices, he realizes something else: He still has eyes. Not physical, corporeal eyes, mind you, but some sort of semblance of eyes. He opens them.</p><p>The music disappears and he’s in a colorless world. Black, white, and gray — so, so much gray. He’s surprised Klaus isn’t making a <em> 50 Shades of Gray </em>joke.</p><p>But, oh, right. No Klaus here. The silence  — the lack of Klaus commentary — should feel peaceful but it doesn't. It just feels off. Wrong.</p><p>Ben’s lying on his back (again, not a <em> real </em>back, he knows, but at least a mirage of one) in the middle of a soft gravel road, surrounded by trees. </p><p>He tries to stand up and is surprised to find that he can. He looks around, noting the same trees, the same road, and the same black, white, and gray expanding endlessly in every direction. A dull world, yet somehow not an unwelcoming one. </p><p>He hears soft, chipper chimes — akin to a children’s bicycle, the sort that he heard on television but his father never taught him to ride.</p><p>And indeed, the chimes reveal themselves to be not just <em>similar </em>to that of a kid’s bike, they <em>are </em>from a kid’s bike. Said object appears in the distance, ambles down the road, and stops a few feet in front of Ben, complete with a kid on top. A girl. She has long hair, a frilly dress, an outdated hat, and an air of indifference about her. </p><p>“Look who finally decided to show up,” she says. “Took you long enough.”</p><p>Huh. “You were expecting me?”</p><p>“I expect everyone eventually. Shame you decided to dilly dally. I made you to be among the least intolerable.”</p><p>“Who are you?” Ben racks his brain, trying to figure out if — and how — he knows this disturbingly blunt girl. (Aren’t people supposed to be greeted first and foremost by their dearest loved ones in the afterlife? Ben's not sure who that would be for him. His biological parents maybe? Grace, if she's allowed in? Not Reggie, surely.)</p><p>“Nevermind that. I need you to run an errand with me first.”</p><p>“But who—?”</p><p>“I’m someone who needs you to run an errand.” She gestures behind her and the single-seat bicycle becomes a tandem. “Come along.”</p><p>Ben does.</p><p>They ride for a while. It could be minutes, could be days, could be months or even years or decades. Time is flat here, Ben notes, but it's just a fact. It doesn't concern him. </p><p>Either way, neither he nor the girl speak. They just glide past the same sort of scenery over and over and over and over…. until, until —</p><p>Ben spots color. Obnoxiously bright neon color, depicting palm trees and a sunrise on a flat surface. It’s a shirt, a tank top. And it’s on a man — one who is lying face-up on the grass, eyes closed. </p><p>As they peddle closer, Ben realizes he knows this man. In fact, he’d absolutely loathe this man if he weren’t also burdened by caring about him. It’s—</p><p>“Klaus?!”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Klaus</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Klaus is having a lovely little siesta.  Soft instrumental music is playing, the sun is shining, and his body feels weightless. Mmm.</p><p>But then there’s a voice. A rather persistent one.</p><p>“Klaus? Klaus? Klaus!!!” </p><p>“Ugh, go away, Ben.”</p><p>“Klaus, you shouldn’t be here!”</p><p>“Mmm, I love the beach.”</p><p>“The beach? No, Klaus, open your eyes.”</p><p>He does and finds Ben leaning over him. “G’morning to you, too, darling. Can’t say your face is on the top of my list of dream faces to wake up to though. You know, Ben, I—“</p><p>“Tell him he needs to leave,” a girl’s voice — an unfamiliar, unfriendly one — cuts in, and Klaus looks past Ben to see the source perched on a bike.</p><p>“Oh, I see. Look, sugar plum, if you want me to avenge someone for your death, I’m all booked up. Sorry. Try again next month.”</p><p>“Klaus.” That’s Ben this time.</p><p>“Aaargh, fine,” Klaus stands up so he can bring himself eye-to-eye with his brother. “What?”</p><p>Ben shoots him his usual you’re-an-idiot-and-here-are-the-top-56-reasons-why look but then softens. “Look, It’s good to see you but I wish I wasn’t.”</p><p>“D’awww, I love compliments.”</p><p>“What are you even doing here?”</p><p>“Well,” Klaus is about to reply that he doesn’t remember, but then he finds that he does. “I seem to recall having the ole noggin slammed down on a club floor because <em> someone </em> made me play superhero nanny to Luther’s thick ass.”</p><p>Ben looks taken aback. “Oh… so so… you’re…” he stammers out, “you’re from… and that’s why… the shorter hair…you’re...”</p><p>“Ah, Ben, hit your head, too? I didn’t know you could die <em>again</em>. Now that’s what I call talent.”</p><p>Ben’s knees literally buckle at that. He just stares at Klaus, a man wounded. </p><p>“Tell him to go back,” the girl insists again. “Now.”</p><p>“What’s she talking about?” Klaus asks Ben. “Where are we?”</p><p>“You really don’t know?”</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“Yeah, Klaus. I’m <em> supposed </em> to be here.”</p><p>“Here?”</p><p>“Yeah, I was invited a long time ago.”</p><p>“Ah, so we’re… in…?” Klaus points up.</p><p>Ben nods.</p><p>“Oh. That’s… bummer.” Klaus smiles sadly and Ben mirrors him.</p><p>The little girl inches closer. “Time. for. you. to. go.”</p><p>“Pffft, fine,” Klaus says. “My brother and I know when we’re not wanted. Come along, Benjamin. Ah, but pray tell, young missy, care to give us directions on out of this charming adobe?”</p><p>“Not him,” she corrects, pointing at Ben. “Just you.”</p><p>“Moi?”</p><p>She nods.</p><p>“But not—?”</p><p>She shakes her head.</p><p>“Well shit.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Ben</strong>
</p><p>“I don’t get it,” Klaus is saying to the girl. “Why now for him?”</p><p>“He chose to.”</p><p>“Awwwww,” he turns to Ben. “Mi hermano, you thought I died in the club and decided to join me in the…” he gestures around. “The, uh, here? I’m touched.”</p><p>Ben isn’t sure how to reply. This is clearly a younger version of Klaus than the brother he last saw in the FBI building — a Klaus who doesn’t know about family group time travel nor Destiny’s Children nor Dallas nor, let alone Ben’s role in saving Vanya. No, the Klaus here now isn’t mourning Ben. He can’t yet. He’s much too weak. </p><p>So, Ben decides to follow the girl’s lead and keep things vague. </p><p>“Not quite,” he says. </p><p>Klaus quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”</p><p>“This… this is goodbye from me to you, but not from you to me... yet.”</p><p>“What is that? Poetry? You know I don’t read.”</p><p>“No, it—”</p><p>“He means he went into The Light.” Great, <em> now </em>the girl decides to spill it.</p><p>Klaus looks like a puppy who’s just been kicked… or a Klaus who’s run out of vodka.</p><p>“But not yet!” Ben rushes to assure him. “At least, not… not from your perspective. You’ll see me again. For a while.”</p><p>“Oh. So when?” Klaus squints, though it’s unclear if that’s because of the sun or because Klaus can’t bear to look at him directly.</p><p>“I can’t tell you that.”</p><p>“Why not?! You’re always telling me things. ‘Klaus, don’t drink that. Klaus, don’t smoke that. Klaus, don’t hump that. Klaus, I’m bored. Klaus, it’s ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away, not a blunt a minute.’ You’re big on telling.”</p><p>Ben would laugh or maybe try to slap Klaus if only he didn’t feel like crying. “I can’t tell you about this, about when I go, because I… I don’t want to try to stop me.”</p><p>“Why not? You try to stop me from doing shit all the time. And this,” Klaus gestures around the black and white space, “Is pretty shit.”</p><p>“Because.”</p><p>“Because why?”</p><p>“Because I don’t regret it. I needed to do it, god damn it!”</p><p>“Hey, don’t say that in front of—” Klaus gestures to the girl.</p><p>She just shrugs. “They’re merely words. Would you be offended if I said ‘Klaus damn it’? </p><p>Klaus clutches his heart. “It would be an honor.”</p><p>She shifts her focus back to Ben. “Tell him to leave now or I’ll make him myself. Don’t you get it? I <em>like</em> you. Or at least I did; I’m starting to question why. But either way, I wanted to give you a chance to say goodbye. So, c’mon. On with it.”</p><p>Ben places a hand on Klaus’s shoulder and it doesn’t phase through. “Thank you.”'</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“For being a good brother. And friend. Most of the time at least. Well, some. Enough, enough of the time.”</p><p>Klaus waves a hand, dismissively. </p><p>“I’m serious, Klaus. I don’t want you to feel guilty — not about summoning me and not about me sticking around. It was my choice. Despite all the shit you put me through — which you can still feel guilty about in of itself, by my guest — it was my choice to stay. I was too scared to leave and you gave me an alternative. I took it, and I don’t regret it.”</p><p>Klaus is looking down at the ground, but Ben can tell that he listened. He took it all in.</p><p>Suddenly, wordlessly, Klaus pulls Ben into a hug — more like yanks, actually. Klaus grabs Ben by the shoulders and pulls him in like he can’t survive another moment without a familial fix. Ben would have had the breath knocked out of him... if only he had breath to begin with. </p><p>“You little shit-heel,” Klaus whispers.</p><p>Ben isn’t sure if the insult is born out of anger that Ben never delivered a speech like that before… or because Ben is saying goodbye. Maybe it’s both.</p><p>“Love you, too, Klaus.”</p><p>Klaus snorts.</p><p>“I’ll take that as confirmation.”</p><p>Klaus pinches Ben’s ear, hard, but stays in the hug. </p><p>“And hey,” Ben says, “Don’t tell me — the me you’re with now — about this. He… I  can’t know.”</p><p>“You think he’d believe me if I tried?”</p><p>“True.”</p><p>“Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.” It’s not a clock, it’s the girl, speaking in a sing-song. “10 seconds.”</p><p>Klaus breaks the hug, though he keeps his hands resting on Ben’s shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “Thank you. These years with you, having you around, it’s the only decent thing my damn powers ever gave him.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Klaus starts drawing a heart in the air with his fingers, but —</p><p>“Time!” The girl honks her bike horn and Klaus is gone.</p><p>Ben wipes away a tear he didn’t know it was possible to produce and turns to her. “So, what now?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Klaus</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Klaus wakes up, again – this time back in the club, where he... ya know.</p><p>The music is pulsing even more obnoxiously than his heart, and half-naked people are gathered all around him, gawking. But Klaus only cares about one face. He searches for it, and when their eyes meet, he hears:</p><p>"Klaus! Fuck, thank god."</p><p>"Exactly." Klaus stands up and walks toward his brother. "Thanks for sticking with me, shithead."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If it wasn't clear, this story takes place after episode 2.9 for Ben and during episode 1.7 for Klaus.</p><p>ALSO, I realize that if Klaus never talked to his father in the afterlife, he never would have found out that good ole Reggie purposely offed himself. But, maybe Pogo would have told the kids eventually anyway? Mmm yes, let's go with that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Diego</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Diego gets shanked and reunites with Ben.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I truly didn't plan on adding a second chapter to this thing, but upon rewatching season 2 (for the like 6th time) I found myself thinking of Diego temporarily dying... soooo here we are!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Diego</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego can’t decide what surprises him most:</p><ul>
<li>That he actually managed to find his father in the 1960s</li>
<li>That Sir Reginald somehow only looked about a decade or two younger than in the 2010s</li>
<li>That his father literally just killed him — not with kindness; with a knife </li>
</ul><p>Actually, nevermind, the first two are definitely more surprising. The third is pretty on-brand.</p><p>Either way, Diego is trying to process all three of these developments at once when he realizes that he’s no longer lying outside the DS Umbrella Manufacturing Company. The ground feels more like grass than concrete and he can sense the sun shining down despite it being nighttime just a moment earlier.</p><p>He can also hear two things: Soft instrumental music and close shouting that sounds both distressed and elated.</p><p>“Diego! Diego!”</p><p>Crap, the shouts are for him. </p><p>Slowly, hoping the screamer won’t sense his movements, Diego reaches into his back pocket for a knife. He grips it like a security blanket, tenses his muscles so that he’ll be ready to spring into action if (/when) need be, and opens his eyes.</p><p>He’s greeted by a smile. And not just any kind, polite smile — it’s perhaps the biggest, corniest, most ridiculous smile Diego has ever seen.</p><p>The smile makes the man displaying it look like a cartoon puppet, rejected for being unrealistic. Or maybe a sadist.</p><p>“Diego!” the man exclaims yet again, daring to reach out and grip his shoulders.</p><p>Diego briefly considers if he’s more in the mood to stab one of the guy’s eyeballs or if a knee would do the trick… but then, before he can figure out why, he realizes that he doesn’t need to feel defensive in the least. He can feel safe. Relieved. Happy even. This person isn’t a threat to him.</p><p>He takes the guy in more — the hair, the eyes, the slight awkwardness.</p><p>“...Ben?”</p><p>The man’s smile shifts to a smirk.</p><p>“Holy shit, Ben! Is it really you?”</p><p>Ben (!) nods as another voice — that of a young girl — calls out. “No, it’s your <em> other </em> dead Asian brother staring at you like a lovesick puppy.”</p><p>“Ignore her,” Ben instructs, while offering a hand to Diego. </p><p>Diego grabs it, stands up, and pulls Ben into a bone-crushing hug. Or rather, it would be bone-crushing if either of their humanoid forms still had bones. </p><p>Diego holds on for dear <strike>life</strike> death, soaking his brother in, while the words “holy shit” reverberate over and over and over in his mind.</p><p>“How did you…? Where are…? What is…?” He’s not sure what to ask first, so non-sense spills out instead. </p><p>A loud sigh sounds from a few feet away and Diego loosens the hug just a tad to see a girl on a bike.  “I didn’t make you to be <em>this </em>dimwitted,” she says.</p><p>“Hey!” Diego thinks he might need a knife after all. “Who the hell are you?”</p><p>“Who’s Sabrina the pre-teenage bitch?” he whispers to Ben. </p><p>Ben grimaces but Diego doesn’t care. Being a minor doesn’t make the girl any less of a bitch and she looks like she can take the insult just fine.</p><p>“She’s...” Ben gestures vaguely around. “You know… the one who’s welcoming us here.”</p><p>“Here?”</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>“Oh, so she’s like…?”</p><p>“Yup-p. Seems so.”</p><p>“Dude.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>The brothers drop their hug, stare at one another, and chuckle.</p><p>“So, I’m really dead now, huh?” Diego asks. “Damnit, Dad.”</p><p>“Well, yes and no.”</p><p>Diego pops an eyebrow.</p><p>“Yes to the ‘damnit, Dad’ bit; I’ll always agree with that. And also yes to being dead... but not for long.”</p><p>“Huh? No offense, bro, but what the hell — or heaven? — is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“It means you gotta go,” the girl supplies.</p><p>“GO?! Where?”</p><p>Ben places a hand on his elbow. “You got to — <em> get </em> to — go back. You survive this.” He smiles sadly.</p><p>“Oh. Huh. Right on.” He pulls Ben into an aggressive hug once more, turns both of their heads away from the girl, and whispers, slyly (or so he thinks) “Come with me.”</p><p>“I heard that.” The girl rolls her eyes. “I hear everything.”</p><p>“Dee, are you trying to pull a heist on... <em> Her </em>?! You can’t do that.”</p><p>“Yeah? Watch me.”</p><p>Ben just chuckles again, shaking his head. </p><p>“God, this family! Not my best work,” God herself says. “Hurry up, Hargreeveses. Knife boy’s about to leave and wake up back down there.”</p><p>“Listen, Diego. I appreciate the gesture, but it’s ok. Really. I’ve been dead for over 17 years. I haven’t always made my peace with it but I’m learning to. I’d like to at least. And I think you already have.”</p><p>“What?! No, Ben. How can you think that? You being dead has never been ok by me. Vanya, Allison, Luther, Klaus, even Five — we might not talk about it but I know they agree. Shit, do you really think we don’t hate what happened? That we don’t miss you terribly? You’re our bother. Of course, we miss you, man. Don’t say crap like that.”</p><p>Ben sighs. “Wow, Diego. Wow. Relax. That’s not what I meant at all. Thanks for the aggressive speech but I know it. I know you love me. ” He winks.</p><p>“So what did…?”</p><p>“I meant that me being dead sucks. It always will suck. But it’s also ok. I’m ok. Both things can be true. Life and death — neither is meant to be fair. People die young sometimes. It’s just the way it is.”</p><p>“Don’t you want more time though? You were only a teenager. An innocent kid!” Shit, Diego discovers that even dead spirits can cry. </p><p>“That’s only somewhat true. Yes, I died at 16, but I had over 17 years on Earth after that.”</p><p>“Huh? Bro, that makes no sense.”</p><p>“It would if you believed Klaus.”</p><p>Diego’s stomach drops. “Oh. Shit. So you were really there? <em>All</em> these years?”</p><p>“Sure was. Nice vigilante clothes, by the way. You and I really know how to rock all black. And Eudora — I’m sorry about her; I hate that I couldn’t intervene. You were lucky to know her.”</p><p>His stomach somehow drops again. “Yeah, I was.”</p><p>“10 seconds,” the girl announces, telling Diego that God is really just an obnoxious game show host.</p><p>“Great to see you, Ben,” Diego cups his face. “Guess I owe Dad a ‘thanks for temporarily murdering me’ card.”</p><p>“Sure do.”</p><p>Diego tries to give his brother another look, a final chance to soak him in, but it lasts only half a second. He sees Ben's throat bobbing, and then, <em>poof,</em> his world goes dark yet again.</p><p>He’s lying down on a lumpy couch, sans clothes and with Lila perched atop his legs. </p><p>“Move. I need to find my brother.”</p><p>“Hmm, I don’t know where the Dennis the Feral Menace went.”</p><p>“Not him. Klaus.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's entirely possible that I'll next get the itch to write Allison &amp; Ben... with Allison arriving after Vanya slashes her throat. TBD.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Allison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Con: One sibling slashes Allison's throat<br/>Pro: She gets to reunite with another</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Allison</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Allison had always hated falling.</p><p>Not that she knew of anyone who counted it as one of their top hobbies or passions, but she had a particularly strong distaste for the sensation. She suspected it was more about the emotions — the lack of control — than anything physical. But either way, it was the one sort of stunt she’d <em> never </em> rumor a film set’s producers to let her perform herself.</p><p>So, when Allison finds herself free-falling — hurtling toward god knows where — right after her sister slashed her throat wide open, well, let’s just say she’s not too pleased.<br/><br/></p><p>At least the falling takes her focus away from her throat — like purposely stubbing your toe to forget about a headache.</p><p>So, that’s what Allison is thinking about — the fall, the fall, not her throat, not her throat, throat, throat — before she lands, sprawled out flat on her back, in the company of two unfamiliar people.</p><p>One is a preteen girl perched atop a bike. The other is a man around her age.</p><p>She sits up. They’re both staring at her. The first looks bored. The second seems to be debating between delight and devastation.</p><p>“Allison!” the man rushes over, clumsily sliding into the grass beside her like a baseball player desperate to make it to home base. “Allison, what are you doing here?” He rests a hand on her knee.</p><p>“Who…?” she tries to say but, oh right, her throat. It stings and won’t let any speech come out of it.</p><p>But the man seems to understand her intention. He gives her a shy stare and a half-smile, and Allison melts. Those eyes — the kindness in them and the way they gaze at her so knowingly — they’re unmistakenly her brother’s.</p><p>“Ben?” she mouths.</p><p>He simply nods and gathers her into her a side hug, supporting her back and gently rubbing her left shoulder. “Hi, sis.”</p><p>Allison opens her mouth. Then, she closes it and mimes scribbling on her hand. </p><p>“Paper?” she mouths.</p><p>Ben shakes his head but turns to the young cyclist a few feet away. “Can we do her one better?”</p><p>The girl sighs likes most kids her age do upon being <strike>asked</strike> told to clean their rooms. She grumbles “just for now,” flicks her wrist… and something remarkable happens: Allison’s throat heals itself, good as new.</p><p>Allison stands up. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” It’s really more of a statement than a question.</p><p>Ben stands up too but doesn't meet her eyes.</p><p>The girl brightens, “Finally! Someone grasps the obvious. Geez, you would<em> think </em>that experiencing a violent injury then tumbling into a new reality to be greeted by your long-dead brother would clue anyone in, but I guess most human brains are due for an upgrade.”</p><p>Ben rolls his eyes. “Don’t mind her. She’s a bit grumpy. Just met Diego.”</p><p>“Oh,” Allison chuckles and Ben echoes it. “I get that.”</p><p>But, then Allison takes his statement in more. “Wait! “Diego’s dead, too?!”</p><p>Ben’s entire face reddens like his hand’s been caught in a cookie jar. (Or, more accurately for the Hargreeves household, been caught merely<em> thinking </em> about confusing a milligram of processed sugar.) </p><p>“No! Not… yet,” he refutes. “Well, he was here for a bit earlier, but he went back. Diego survived, just like you’re about to.”</p><p>“Oh.” Allison would celebrate but that notion feels a bit crass in front of Ben. </p><p>Her brother turns to the girl. “Right? She’s about to go back, too?”</p><p>“Do bears on the dwarf planet Zidupp shit mint chocolate chip ice cream?”</p><p>“Do they?!”</p><p>“Yes,” she picks at her nails. “Duh.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Allison interrupts. “Can we get back to the whole me-being-temporarily-<em>dead </em>thing?! Not that I’m ungrateful, but how. Why?”</p><p>“It’s not your time yet,” the girl shrugs.</p><p>“And it was his?” she points to Ben. “As a teenager? A 16-year-old whose only sin was being adopted by a psychopathic billionaire?”</p><p>“Yes,” she gives Ben a pitch-perfect angry teenage glare. “Stole 17 extra years, too.”</p><p>“Stole?! What do you mean ‘stole’?”</p><p>“Ah, so goes my theory about you being the smart one in the family.”</p><p>Allison feels inclined to rush forward and show the bratty kid how smart her fists are, but Ben stops her with a gentle hand on her elbow.</p><p>“<em>Klaus,</em> Allie,” he says. “I was with Klaus. Nearly every day, every minute, for nearly two decades.”</p><p>Allison shuts her eyes.</p><p>“I know you don’t believe it — him or me — but you will. Soon. You’ll have proof soon.”</p><p>Allison keeps her eyes closed but pulls, yanking her brother into a more proper, longer hug than they had before. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Sorry? Why? You have nothing to be sorry for, Allison. Well, except maybe for your guest role in <em>Exposé </em>season four. Klaus and I cringed the whole way through that one.”</p><p>“Don’t try to make me laugh.” Allison swats at his shoulder but does indeed let out a snort. “I’m sorry for not believing Klaus. I’m sorry for not being able to save you. I’m sorry for—”</p><p>Now on a roll with “sorry”s, she remembers <em> what </em> just happened.</p><p>“Oh my gawd, Vanya! I tried to… I rumored... it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my…” She pulls away from Ben and can’t catch her breath. She places her hands on her knees and tries to focus on her heart rate, a tactic she learned from playing a therapist in a film. “My fault, my fault, I… I…”</p><p>“Hey, hey, take it slow, Allie,” Ben says. “One breath at a time. In, out. In, out.”</p><p>“What are you two worried about?” the girl comments. “Hyperventilating to death… <em> here</em>?! <em> ” </em></p><p>Somehow, the ridiculousness of that question makes Allison able to breathe just fine again. But —</p><p>“I really am the world’s shittiest sister,” she insists.</p><p>“No,” Ben places a hand on her back. “You’re not. Would I miss talking to you for all these years if you were?”</p><p>“Well, I never rumored <em>you</em>…”</p><p>“You’re not a shitty sister to Vanya either. You rumored her as a kid because Dad made you. Dad made us all do horrible things, but <em> we </em> aren’t horrible. We aren’t — or at least we <em> shouldn’t </em>— be defined by single actions, not entirely. Don’t let one action negate all the wonderful things you’ve done for Vanya — for us all.”</p><p>“I tried to rumor her again just now, too, though. As a full-grown adult... who knows better.”</p><p>Ben just shrugs, as if Allison had admitted to merely forgetting to wash her hands without soap. “It was in self-defense.”</p><p>“YAWN!” the girl literally screams this out loud.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Allison whips around to asks.</p><p>“I said ‘yawn.’ As in you’re boring me. Tiring me out — which is quite an accomplishment given all the reality shows and US Senate briefings I’ve seen down there. Enough with the mopping and self-hatred. Get to the forgiveness and say goodbye to your brother already. Chop. chop.”</p><p>“Look, Allison,” Ben says. “She’s wrong about forgiving yourself being a quick and easy process. It’s one I’m still working on for myself even. But at least consider it, ok? For me?”</p><p>“For you? Well, when you put it like that, Ben…” She offers him a half-smile.</p><p>“Ready to say goodbye?”</p><p>“No. Never. But I’m glad we’re getting the chance now.”</p><p>“Considering you had to die for it, I’ll take that as a huge compliment.”</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>Ben steps forward and opens up his arms. “Third hug’s a charm?”</p><p>She nods and steps in. “Are you going to be ok? Here?”</p><p>“With the universe’s bossiest preteen since Five? I think so. She’s a big fan of us Hargreeves, see.”</p><p>“Clearly.”</p><p>“And hey, will you do me a favor, Allison?”</p><p>“Of course. Anything.”</p><p>“Call Klaus out on his bullshit about me when we get to Dallas.”</p><p>“Dallas? What, we take a family road trip to Texas?”</p><p>“Err, not quite. But you’ll know what I mean when you need to.”</p><p>“Choppity, choppity, chop,” the girl calls out. "Running out the clock."</p><p>“I love you, Ben,” Allison says at 3x her normal speed.</p><p>“Love you too, sis. You’ll see me again soon.”</p><p>“I—”</p><p>The second word “will?” dies in Allison’s throat, as she spots the girl flicking a wrist and her throat wound reappears. The last thing she sees is Ben smiling at her fondly before his face morphs into that of another one of her brothers: Luther’s.</p><p>They’re in the sickbay of the Academy mansion.</p><p>“Allison!” he exclaims. “You’re awake! Are you ok?”</p><p>She sits up slowly and mimes for a notepad, which Grace — appearing beside them — hands to her, along with a pen.</p><p>“I’m fine," she writes. "Where’s Vanya?”</p><p>Her sister. Allison needs to apologize to her sister and offer her a truckload of forgiveness right back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I guess I might as well plan to add a Luther chapter and a Five one now too, huh?</p><p>PS. I like to think that as a result of this chapter, Ben got to talk to his siblings throughout season 2 (thanks to Allison demanding Klaus make him corporeal) </p><p>Oh and anyone know what show I stole the fake Exposé series from? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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